I Hate You
by Jamison Leigh
Summary: Wee!Chesters Sam and John have an argument which leads Sam and Dean to have an argument which prompts 11 year old Sam to run away *Somewhat spoilers for DSOTM*
1. Part One

**I Hate You**

**SPN fic: Prompted by the mentioning of Flagstaff in season five's Dark Side of the Moon. I do not own Supernatural, the CW, or the boys. Sadly.**

**Watch the Peoples' Choice Awards tonight to see if Supernatural won an award!**

**Ages- Sam: 11, Dean: 15**

Sam and Dad had another argument tonight. Great. Dad wants Sam to grow up. Sam wants to be a kid. Does anyone ask Dean what he wants? Of course not. That'd make Dean's life way too simple.

Oh god, I'm talking in third person.

Why does it have to be tense all the damn time? I hate it. I want my family to get along. Is that such a crime? I want Sam to be a kid, and Dad to be a dad. I also want Mom to be here. I miss Mom.

That's another one of those things I'll never get. My 'Never Get' list is longer than most peoples' pro and con lists.

I walked into the bedroom, away from Dad and his dangerous moods. Sam was lying face down on the bed, silently crying. It suddenly occurs to me that silent crying is the only type of crying allowed in the Winchester family. My heart flip-flopped as I processed my kid brother crying on the bed.

I sat down on my bed (which is next to Sam's) and reached out to comfort him.  
"Don't. Touch. Me." Sam's tear-choked, angry voice broke out. I flinched, and quickly withdrew my hand like he'd burned me.

Sam looked up, his face and eyes abused from all the tears. He was angry; that was understandable. I could feel the old familiar enemy, our argument that had been performed for so long we could probably enact it in our sleep. Sure, the words had changed over the years. But it always ended with the same sad notes.  
"Why didn't you stick up for me, Dean?"  
"I-I did. You just didn't hear me." I stammered, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. 'Go ahead, Dean. Lie to the only person who truly gives a shit about you.'  
"No you didn't. You just told us to stop like you always do."  
"He stopped, didn't he?"  
"I didn't want him to stop! God, why do you ALWAYS listen to him?"

Because the last time I didn't, you almost died, Sammy. But I didn't say that. I never say that.  
"Because he's Dad, and he knows what he's talking about." I said, looking down at the frayed, stained carpet that probably hadn't been changed since 1943 which is when this house seemed to be built.  
Sam huffed a huge sigh. "No. You're just afraid of him. But, I'm not. Not anymore."

I stood still, feeling my face grow hot. I didn't have a comeback. I didn't have a comeback to that. "Sam…I…" "Just leave me alone, Dean!"

I sighed, and rubbed the tense part of my neck. "Sam, I just…" "Leave! I don't want you here!" I froze, and quickly got up off the bed, leaving the room.

I walked outside, in only my pajama pants and a thin shirt. I felt around for my pack of cigarettes hidden somewhere on me. Finding one, I lit it with shaking hands. The sting of rejection being replaced by the tang of nicotine. Somehow, I fell asleep outside. I know this because I woke up to my dad shaking me awake. "Hey, dude, go to bed before you freeze solid out here." He said, smiling that familiar crooked, half smile. I nodded, walking half-asleep to the bedroom Sam and I shared. I didn't turn on the light. I just fell in a mindless heap on my unmade bed. Sam was peacefully dreaming away next to me. Thank God, because I so didn't want to have to deal with all that crap right now.

I must fall asleep at the drop of a hat, because the next thing I know, Dad is shaking me awake again. "Hey, Dean. Wake up. Caleb called; he needs my help on a hunt in Fresno. I'm headin' out now, so watch out for Sammy." I nodded, still sleep-ridden. My eyelids drooped shut again, and I was off to Dreamland.

During a wonderful dream about making out with some current, no-name girl in some current, no-name school. Mandie, Sandie, Brandie…something like that. I suddenly felt something bright shining in my eyes. Figuring that Sam was shining a light in my eyes or something, I immediately groaned, and rolled over. "Dammit, Sammy…" I moaned. No smartass response. I cracked one eye open, and realized it was the sun streaming in through my window. 

Looking to my left, I noticed that Sam wasn't there; his bed neatly made. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, and rose up out of bed. I didn't hear any sounds from the living room/ kitchen area, so I gently opened the door and walked out of the bedroom. I padded down the hall in my now gray, dingy socks and entered the main room. Expecting to see Sam reading at the table like always, I was shocked when he wasn't there.

"Sam? Sammy? You there, bro?" I called loudly. But, only my voice was heard. No response, no sniffling from quiet tears. Just unfriendly silence. Still nothing. I ran back into the room, quickly opening the closet. Sam's clothes were gone. I checked all my hidden stashes of money—there are six hidden stashes. Only two were still there.

"Dammit, Sam!" I groaned for the second time since I'd woken up. Sam had run away. Great.


	2. Part Two

I hate you by twilightercullenxoxo

Part II

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, anything related to Supernatural or anything mentioned in this fic that I haven't already covered.**

**Am looking for a beta, so if you're interested let me know! :D**

Hours later, I find myself at the public library. I am copying signs I made of Sam to post around town. It says HAVE YOU SEEN SAM in huge writing, with a somewhat current photo. It says the basic facts about my little brother, and my contact information.

It was strange to me how I already missed Sam. I missed how he'd randomly ask me questions. I needed Sam around, it suddenly occurred to me. I felt like a dog that'd suddenly had a chain removed that had been on him for what seemed like forever. Confused, lost, scared and unsure of what to do. The dog tries to make it back to the owner. Some dogs make it; some don't. That meant I'd have to call Dad soon. Shit.

'If I don't find Sam tomorrow, I'll call Dad," I promised myself.

I handed out flyers all day, with little to no success. I kept handing them out, and asking around during the night as well. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I just looked for Sam.

The trail was getting colder by the second, so I knew I had no choice but to call Dad. Hands shaking as I dialed the number. It rang a few times, and then Dad answered.

"Dad?"

"What? What's goin' on, Dean?"

"Somethin' bad happened." My throat threatened to constrict.

"What's goin' on?" he repeated, getting angrier by the second.

"Sam's gone." The tears that had threatened me all day suddenly busted free and I couldn't contain them.

"WHAT?" he yelled into my ear. I flinched, and kept crying.

"I think Sammy ran away. I've been tryin' to find him...but…I have little leads." I choked out between sobs.

"I'll be there soon. Don't fucking move." He said darkly, a deep silence filling the phone as he hung up.

I sat on the stoop, smoking cigarette after cigarette. The words Dad had said, the words Sam had said, the words I hadn't said just kept playing over and over in my head.

'_Leave! I don't want you here!'_

'_Why can't you be more like Dean?'_

'_Maybe I don't wanna be like Dean!'_

It kinda stings a little when your only reasons for getting outta bed in the morning don't want you around. Okay, it feels like someone just stabbed me then poured lemon juice in the wound. If you wanna get technical.

Dad showed up after a few hours, flying out of the car like a mad man. I'd barely stomped my cigarette out before he was throwing me into the ratty place. He slammed the door shut, and spun around. His face was red and purplish with rage, he grew in size when he was angry and this time he was GIGANTIC.

"What the Hell, Dean? I wasn't gone for a DAMN week!" he spat.

"H-h-he just r-ran off. I-I was sleepin', and he left. H-he took his clothes, took my m-money." I stammered, tears still welling up in my sore eyes.

"You're supposed to look out for him! You're supposed to call me if things go wrong! I'm supposed to be able to count on you!" he said, as he slapped me hard. I've been slapped before, but nothing hurt quite like a Dad slap.

Maybe it was because with a stranger, there was no love lost between the hunted and the hunter.

He kneed me, making me collapse on the ground. Seeing stars and gasping for air, I cried hard. He stormed out, leaving me alone. I crumpled into a little ball, sobbing for me and my lost brother.

I hoped, wherever he was, that he was at least having some fun.

Later on, I slept uneasily. Dad had forced me to lie down. Images of a bloody Sam on the ceiling, shouting, 'Leave! I don't want you here!' took over my dreams.

I finally awoke in a cold sweat, 'Sam!' still hot off my lips. Nausea overtook me.

I somehow made it to the bathroom, my bruised and sore body yelling in rebellion as I retched uncontrollably into the toilet. What little I had in my stomach came, along with bile. Dad came in, and sat by me. I flinched, and retched loudly again. Tears sprung to my eyes, as he placed a hand on my tense back.

Flushing and shutting the lid, I stood up shakily. I looked up at Dad who had a mixed expression on his face.

"Got a phone call while you were out. Someone saw your flyers and spotted Sam. He's in Flagstaff. I'm gonna go get him. Then, we're gonna head out to Bobby's for a while."

"I'll go." I said, breathlessly.

"I need to talk to Sam. Alone. Plus, you look like hell, dude," Aka, Sorry for beatin' the shit out of ya.

"Oh. If you say so," Aka sorry for losing Sammy.

I ate a small meal, showered and slept comfortably. I awoke to the sound of the front door slamming.

"And you apologize for scarin' Dean hafta death with that little stunt of yours." Dad called.

Trudging footsteps came closer and closer to the door. I laid back down on the bed, and cracked my eyes. Sam opened the door, and came in. He shut it, and threw a wad of money on my chest.

"I know you're awake, Dean." Sam said his voice full of shame and guilt.

I sat up, rubbing my sleep-filled eyes. I looked up at him, my heart singing in my chest at the sight of my kid brother.

"I'm sorry, Dean. For everything. I really didn't mean to scare you or hurt you." He said, looking at me with those tear-filled, puppy dog eyes that he'd had from the moment he was born.

"No you're not. You're just sorry you were found." I said, half-heartedly. Sam flinched, and I internally berated myself.

I got up out of bed, and walked closer to him.

"I'm gonna need a few days to really forgive you, Sam." He nodded, biting on his lip.

I grabbed his shoulders, and pulled him in for the tightest hug I'd ever given.

"But, I am glad you're safe."

END


End file.
